Bohemian Dream
by ladyrostova
Summary: One of those lazy, hazy mornings when budding college student Jenna Sommers meets with her grad-school mentor, Isobel Flemming. Set prior to the events of the show. JennaxIsobel slash.


_When you know she's no high climber__  
__Then you find your only friend__  
__In a room with your two timer__  
__And you're sure you're near the end__  
__Then you love a little wild one__  
__And she brings you only sorrow__  
__All the time you know she's smilin'__  
__You'll be on your knees tomorrow _

Sometimes, it was easier not to feel.

At least, that's what she told herself, as she was sitting on her bottom bunk, papers scattered all over the floor, pills strewn all over the tousled sheets. With her strawberry blond hair pulled into a messy bun and her sweat-stained tank top and booty shorts that she'd been wearing for three days straight, she looked like a college student. If it weren't for her dark brown eyes, blearily out of focus underneath her cat-eye glasses, and the vacant look on her face, someone might think Jenna Sommers was actually going to get something done today. But she wasn't getting anything done. She was a failure. Her roommate had been gone for the past three days and still, she had done nothing. Nothing, except for pop pills. Fuck. She closed her eyes, fell back against the wall, pulled her knees to her chest and rocked back and forth for a moment, in tune with the beat of the current Steely Dan song that was blasting on her iPod. She hummed along, a smile on her drawn, ashen face.

There came a knock on her door, which had to repeat itself three or four times before she heard it over her headphones.

'Coming,' she drawled out, and with a groan rolled off her bed and onto the floor. Everything was swimming in her direct line of vision, and it took her a moment to center her visual cortex before she hazarded a step in the direction of the door. She tripped over one of the piles of paper on the floor and flew forward, landing smack against its wooden surface with a muffled shout. Once she'd collected herself, she shook her head a little (which proved to be a mistake, as it cued a sudden onset of wooziness) and slid her palm down until it collided with the rusted bronze doorknob, twisted it, and pulled it back.

'Isobel,' she breathed, her breath heavy with the smell of cheap beer, 'good evening.'

Isobel cocked a perfectly sculpted brow and said, 'It's ten o'clock in the morning, darling,' before pushing past the high and drunken girl into the disheveled room. 'Jesus, Jen, it's a mess in here.' She glanced down, her stilettos crinkling over the layers of loose papers coating the floor. Her eyes then met Jenna's as Jenna shut the door and locked it. '_You're_ a mess.'

'But a hot one,' she giggled, clapping her hands together childishly.

In spite of herself, Isobel smiled, and nodded. 'Yes, quite a hot one indeed. Jenna, you're going to blow your eardrums out,' she said, suddenly, as she noticed the iPod still dangling from her ears. She could hear the Steely Dan from here. When Jenna didn't respond, Isobel stepped carefully over the piles of paper and clothing strewn all over the floor and yanked the buds from Jenna's ears, perhaps too roughly. As much as she loved taking advantage of Jenna when she was in this state, she didn't much like _dealing_ with her immature antics. 'I brought you a present,' she said, once she'd tossed the iPod on top of Jenna's dresser. She reached behind her and pulled a small packet with several rolls of marijuana, shaking it in front of Jenna's abruptly hungry gaze. Jenna made an attempt at a uncoordinated snatch for it but Isobel stepped away, grinning widely. 'Not so fast, Jen. You've got to work for it.'

The shorter girl fake-pouted and followed up with, 'Well, I'm at your mercy, Isobel.' She removed her glasses and set them on the top of her dresser, behind her, so that she could pin Isobel with a more seductive look and stagger forth, holding out her hands until they collided with Isobel's jeaned hips. 'I'll do whatever you want me to,' she whispered, sliding down slowly to her knees so that her face was level with Isobel's panty line.

This is how it always began. With Jenna in control. But, of course, Isobel wasn't one to be dominated.

She smirked as Jenna's hands slid from her hips to hitch around her belt and raised her knee just a little so as to allow her to kick Jenna (not too roughly, but roughly enough to get her to back off) playfully in the shin with her edged stiletto. Jenna gasped a little and recoiled, falling back onto the floor and hitting the back of her head rather painfully on the dresser. 'Fuck, _ow_, Bel,' she whined, eyebrows knitting together. But Isobel was always of the opinion that Jenna looked cute when she was in pain, so she said nothing as she stepped forward, positioning one foot directly between her crumpled legs and the other on the outside, squeezing her thigh. For some reason, this direct application of pressure pleased Jenna (at least a _stoned_ Jenna), and whatever pleased Jenna most usually pleased Isobel, too. She inched her left foot higher and higher on Jenna's inner thigh until she finally was rewarded with a little moan from the girl beneath her, to which she responded with a close-lipped smirk.

Jenna had always been the louder of the two.

Pain forgotten, Jenna leaned her head back and shuddered out a loud gasp as finally Isobel's foot reached as far as it could go. Her eyes flashed open and she licked her lips, suddenly dry, and launched her torso forward, colliding with Isobel's calf. 'Stupid jeans,' she muttered against her, her hands roaming upward, higher and higher on Isobel's thigh. Jenna eased back into a kneeling pose and strained her arms farther up Isobel's leg, until they met with the sensitive area between, now warm from Jenna's soft kneading. Isobel had always prided herself on her ability to remain silent (for the most part) during the beginning stages of their lovemaking, but even now, she found her lips parting and mouth involuntarily opening, her eyes rolling back into her head. Jenna smiled and replaced the action which her hands were completing with her mouth, just to provide the other woman with a slight, teasing preview of what was later to come.

'Stupid jeans, in my way,' she repeated, after she'd taken a break and driven her fingers up to unhitch Isobel's belt and whip it off, tossing it out of the way. Anywhere. Her hands then clung to the hem of Isobel's jeans, running over either side until she came round and hit the zipper, which she proceeded to attend to with her teeth. It was an art which Jenna had found difficult at first to master, but now that she and Isobel had made love so many times, she had it down to a science. With her steadied fingers, she undid the button at the top of the now unzipped fly, and grinned as she pressed her head against Isobel's hips. Without precedent, Isobel's abdomen cinched, and she sighed into the gentle rocking she had commenced against Jenna's forehead. She closed her eyes and slid down to her knees, meeting Jenna face to face, where the two lunged in for a passionate kiss.

Instinctively, Isobel locked her hands on the back of Jenna's head and pulled them both to their feet, pushing Jenna over to the edge of the bottom bunk. They stood there, breathlessly kissing, for a few moments, until the tender area behind Jenna's knees hit the side of the bed and she collapsed, Isobel following, until they were sprawled together on the cheap mattress.

They were living a Bohemian dream; making love atop a thin comforter sprinkled with pills, the faint tune of Steely Dan humming from the iPod on the floor, all a tangle of curls and lingering touches.

Isobel caught Jenna's bottom lip between her teeth and tugged, playfully, as she usually did when she'd finally wrestled her way the top, and began roaming around the body of the girl below with her manicured and trimmed fingernails. Another delicate moan betrayed Jenna's composure, and she couldn't help herself as her back arched and her head inclined backward, impulsively wrapping her thighs around Isobel's torso as it slid, lower, and lower, and lower still, down her body. Isobel's mouth left Jenna's and instead attended to leaving a trail of sensual kisses from her neck to her collarbone. She caught the hem of Jenna's tank top and pushed it up––far enough to reveal that black lace bra that she always seemed to wear. She dipped her head down toward Jenna's bellybutton, allowing herself a moment to suck on it gently before kissing all the way up between her small breasts. Jenna gasped, and her thighs tightened around Isobel, her feet sliding on top of her lower back and pressing her closer.

'Isobel,' she moaned, her eyes closing in something close to rapture as Isobel's hands cupped her breasts. But that was as much as she could manage to say between gasps. It didn't matter; Isobel wasn't there for conversation.

'Shut up, Jenna,' Isobel breathed, silencing her with a close-lipped kiss. 'This always goes better when you shut the hell up.' She was moving, now, rhythmically, above Jenna, their hips grinding together––first slowly, but then gradually more and more rapidly, until the bed beneath began to creak with the force of their movement. Isobel was beginning to sweat in her tight jeans and leather jacket. She gasped, pulling away from Jenna to tear off her jacket and toss it to the floor. Underneath, she wore a clingy black tank top, which Jenna leapt up and tugged off within minutes of its exposure. 'Getting anxious, are we?' Isobel panted, smiling. She wanted to say more, but Jenna intercepted whatever words she might have said with her tongue. She hitched her hands around the back of Isobel's neck and roughly twisted her over so that she was placed on top. Jenna had never been the dominant one in her life; she was the little girl, the kid sister, constantly pushed to the side in favor of the big kids and the games they played. Well, now? Now, she was the big kid, and she was the one playing the game.

As for Isobel, she always needed to feel something new, something fresh, something edgy and experimental, in order to feel truly _alive_. Her life was so plain, so perfectly, boringly linear, and she needed Jenna––truly _needed_ her––to help deviate from the set path she knew she would be destined to follow anyway.

They _needed_ each other; they always had.

Jenna sat up from her straddling position atop Isobel and pulled her shirt all the way off, much preferring the feel of skin to skin contact as she lowered herself to Isobel's navel and returned the favor of sucking and nibbling. Surprisingly enough, it was usually Jenna who introduced the more violent aspects of their lovegame, as she was emboldened both by the pills she'd popped and the promise of weed in the aftermath. Her fingernails dug into Isobel's hips and Isobel let out a sharp cry of pain intermingled with pleasure; this is what she so liked about Jenna. She wasn't afraid to take risks, to cause a little pain, like some of the other lovers Isobel had taken. Jenna was exciting, and raw. Every time.

Jenna migrated farther up Isobel's torso until her tongue met with her bra. She slid her knee between Isobel's legs and gripped both breasts, tugging at the fine lace material that lie between them and her teeth. Isobel aided her by unhitching her bra from behind and letting it drop to the floor beside the bed, leaning up and into Jenna's embrace. Jenna pushed her back down, raising a brow at her seductively as she leaned in and took between her lips one of Isobel's pert nipples, sucking on it tauntingly before she shifted control to her teeth. This elicited a sharp gasp from Isobel, who ran her fingernails down Jenna's back with such a force that she was sure she drew blood. She usually did. Jenna's lips pulled back and she let out a little cry at this, but was not dissuaded from reprising her work with Isobel's left breast.

When she was through, she moved lower down the expanse of Isobel's body, hovering at last over her unzipped jeans. Intuitively, Isobel raised her legs to be level with Jenna's middle, much more conducive for the removal of clothing––which is precisely what Jenna did. She grabbed hold of the hem of Isobel's jeans and slowly peeled them all the way off, rolling them up and tossing them over her shoulder, ignoring whatever things they happened to knock over. She left, however, Isobel's black studded stilettos, parting them so that one was on either side, leaving her clearance to slide her body between Isobel's legs and land, conveniently, with her mouth at the culmination between each inner thigh. She dragged her chin lazily up the small hill and leaned her lips forward, taking the middle of her wet panties between her teeth and grabbing hold of either side over the hips with her fingers. Jenna tugged them all the way down to her ankles before Isobel kicked them off, and leaned up, waiting for Jenna's touch.

But she knew by now that Jenna didn't give it that easily.

Instead, Jenna began trailing kisses all the way up the inside of Isobel's legs, grabbing the outsides tightly with her hands as she neared the crossing. Once there, she ran her tongue around the outsides, goading Isobel in the nastiest of ways. Isobel moaned loudly, and before she could stop herself, began bucking her hips and squeezing Jenna's head together with her thighs. 'Jenna,' she said, breathlessly.

'Shut up, Isobel,' Jenna parroted, taking a moment to breathe, 'this always goes better when you shut the hell up.' She dropped her head back between Isobel's legs and now, no longer able to prevent herself from doing so, began eagerly sucking and exploring with her tongue. Isobel let out a low, sultry sound, and began rocking against Jenna's movements, her hands falling helplessly at her sides. She clung fiercely to whatever scrap of sheet she could find, wailing with ecstasy. Jenna moaned back, the sounds muffled by her current occupation, before she walked her hand over to where her mouth had just been and thrust her index and middle fingers deep inside her lover, shuddering with lust as she felt––and heard––Isobel climax. The two remained like that, motionless, panting, until Jenna collapsed on Isobel's naked, sylphlike form, and attempted to catch her breath.

But Isobel didn't believe in breaks.

It was seconds before Jenna was on her back, and her shorts were at her ankles. Isobel was now perched atop her, sending her a simmering gaze that one might confuse for a predator eyeing its prey. Her hands slid down the sides of Jenna's torso and then underneath, grabbing hold of her panties and tearing them off in a way that could only be described as savage.

With Isobel, it was all about the instant gratification, the primal, animalistic pleasure.

She wasted no time ensuring the placement of her head between Jenna's legs, and was pleased to find a healthy amount of warmth and wetness there, awaiting her. She dove in, sucking and exploring and gently teething in a much more provocative, more experimental way than she had ever done before. Jenna's body began to sway back and forth, and she cried out in a vocal expression of blissful delirium as, in what seemed like mere seconds, Isobel's fingers had wound up inside her.

When Jenna climaxed, the entire housing complex knew about it.

But that was how Isobel liked it.

She continued her rhythmic thrusting, deeper and harder with every time, until Jenna's voice had finally crackled up to the point where it became unattractive and inconvenient for her to continue. She pulled out, leaned back, and took a deep breath, closing her eyes, her body shaking from Jenna's ragged heaves beneath her. Without a word, Isobel extracted herself from the bed and wandered over (still clad in her stilettos) to the place on the floor where the marijuana had ended up. She grabbed it, and tossed it onto Jenna's chest. As it landed on her, Jenna smiled, and whispered, hoarsely,

'Gimme a light.'

They were living a Bohemian dream.


End file.
